Bloody Rose
by htibberon
Summary: She isn't alright. She needs power, and she only knows one way how. Can she be saved, or is it already too late?


Pain. More pain. The pain was good. Control. The feeling was good. Blood. It drips down her arm. She watches it make a little red stream. She smiles. Power. It feels great, She craves the feeling. Makes the cut larger. Feels amazing. A little more. Lots more blood. Pretty shade of red. A bit more. Bad pain. Lots of it. Scream. His face. Blackness.

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Nothing.

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Sweet darkness.

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I am blinded by the light when I crack open my eyes. I close them again. The blackness isn't the same now. I groan softly. My brain is thinking again. Damn! It takes me a minute before I try opening my eyes again.

There he is again. That face; No smile. That smile has been gone for a long time. He told me a little while ago that I was his smile, that since _I_'ve been gone so has his smile. I miss it. It made my heart feel good. The small smile on his lips weren't in his eyes. The smile was fake. I ache.

"How do you feel?" He asks in a soft voice. Does he think it will hurt me if his voice is too strong? I study him silently. I can see the discomfort in his eyes. I want to make him happy, make him feel more comfortable. I tell myself to talk. No words come out. I give him an apologetic look.

His eyes are brown, I note. That empty pit in my chest aches more. The little green flakes of happiness are gone. When we were younger, when my skin was innocent, I had counted all the colours in his eyes. I always lost count. He would laugh. His laugh made my chest feel warm. I miss those days.

"I'm sorry." My whisper is soft. I wonder if he heard it. He did. I smile softly; there is a sparkle and a dark green flake. He probably doesn't understand what I mean, but that's alright.

"I didn't think I'd hear the sound of your voice again . . ." His voice was muddy. Happiness overlapped pain, pain overlapped relief, relief overlapped disappointment, disappointment overlapped happiness. The disappointment stings me the most.

I cannot apologize again. I am sorry that he has to listen to me again, I'm sorry that he cannot get past useless me. But, that's not what he will hear. I cannot lie to him. I must leave his ears' innocence. I give him a slight smile; I've already sullied his eyes.

"Will you ever be the same girl I used to know?" he asks in a defeated voice. He didn't want to say it, but he couldn't hold it back any longer.

It takes me a while, but I manage a nod. It's his eyes that are being stained by my deceit, I'm alright with that.

There is that sparkle again. It's intoxicating. I control it. I love it. It makes me feel so good. I have made him happy, that's all I could ask for. Other than for me to be dead, of course.

"I can hardly wait." He smiles that lopsided smile of his that makes my heart flutter. Deep down; I know this lie will hurt him deeply. But, that's in the future and I will hopefully be long gone and won't have to witness it. The way he studies me with those beautiful eyes of his makes me curious. Can he tell that I'm lying? I make it a point not to lie to him. How dare he?

A nurse comes in with her big plastic looking smile. She says something along the lines of it's great to see me up. I don't really pay attention to her words. Why should I? They are as fake as her boobs.

He looks at her for a second and I cough to have his attention. He looks concerned. I'm glad. Someone is trying. I glance around the room. Flowers and a card, from him. Nothing else.

Miss Fake Boobs tells him he has to half an hour later. She smiles that stupid smile again and I can practically feel the vomit rising in my throat. She gives me drugs. At least she does something useful.

I smile. Blackness again.

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Stupid hospital lights are too damn bright. He isn't here. I call for him. He doesn't come. I'm lonely without him. He doesn't want me anymore. I search around the room. I see a new card. It's within my reach. It's from _her_. Old best friend, had eyes for him now. She cannot have him. He is mine.

I scratch the scab on my wrist with the card. Scratch more. Smile. Feels good. Card is stained. Heart rate monitor beeps faster. More blood oozes from the cut, I hear footsteps. I hide the card under my pillow.

He runs to my side. "What's wrong?" He is worried about me. I shake my head. He sees the blood stain on my blanket. Disappointed stare, Pain. Dark brown eyes. He calls for help. Doctor runs in. Drugs. Darkness. Nothing.


End file.
